


The Sound Of Your Body On My Own

by quodpersortem



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: M/M, Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-21
Updated: 2011-08-21
Packaged: 2017-10-22 21:56:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quodpersortem/pseuds/quodpersortem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>so this is pure porn and maybe a tiny bit kinky in places but there is nothing cracky, that’s for sure. as for now, i’m going to have to stop writing short fics because rangerdanger convinced me joining suitsbigbang was a good idea.</p><p>also this is entirely the reason why i wrote the fic:<br/><a href="http://s289.photobucket.com/albums/ll202/Pity_of_the_Year/?action=view&current=tumblr_lq5yxrgLx41qc49r2o1_400.gif"><img/></a>     <a href="http://s289.photobucket.com/albums/ll202/Pity_of_the_Year/?action=view&current=tumblr_lq5yxrgLx41qc49r2o2_400.gif"><img/></a></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sound Of Your Body On My Own

**Author's Note:**

  * For [townpariah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/townpariah/gifts).



It takes Harvey just under ten minutes to realize Mike is staring at him. They are at a party of a rich client, and though Mike is in a suit that is only a little more expensive than the ones he wears to work—and looks exactly that too—Harvey is wearing a tuxedo.

Mike can’t take his eyes off him. He’d really hoped he could have been more suave about this, but obviously not.

Still. It’s expected that Harvey raises his eyebrows at him, and grins a little. It’s also no wonder that Mike has to look away then, his face heating up under the steady calm gaze of brown eyes.

What is unexpected, surprising, is that Harvey comes to talk to him towards the closing of the party. He stands opposite of Mike, says, “Come outside the moment I text you. The car will be in front of the door.”

Then he brushes past Mike, their shoulders bumping in the process. Harvey’s fingers briefly trail over Mike’s belt, his hip-bone.

When the warm presence is gone Mike is left standing in the middle of the room, trembling while he tries to calm down by taking deep breaths. Harvey has walked over to the other side of the room, and is talking to someone whose name Mike should probably know but—instead all he can stare at is the line of Harvey’s body, sharp against the dim light behind him.

Eventually he walks out to the balcony, where he briefly chats with a girl attending the party. She has to be in her early twenties, is Asiatic, and he thinks he might have taken an interest in her if he hadn’t been quite so distracted by his boss.

The moment he can feel the buzz of his phone in his pocket, he makes up a lame excuse and leaves the party as quick as he can.

-

Harvey rented a blue and white first generation Ford Thunderbird and drives it himself. Mike knows he can, because even though it was a party it’s mostly business to them anyway. He gets in the front seat and tries not to stare at Harvey too much, while at the same time he wills himself to stay calm even though he knows what is going to happen. Harvey looks relaxed, he keeps one hand on the steering wheel while he shifts gears with the other.

The one time he does look at Mike, they are waiting for the traffic lights. Harvey smiles when he checks Mike out at his leisure, the way his eyes move over Mike’s body almost tangible. So Mike takes a deep breath and looks out of the window on his right-hand side, because if he notices Harvey look at him like that even once more, he might well jump him.

-

He follows Harvey up and waits patiently until he closes the door. Then he waits until Harvey walks up to him, openly checking him out. Mike’s breath catches in his throat for a moment, but then the space between them closes and there is no time to think anymore. He pushes his tongue into Harvey’s mouth, and Harvey responds by humming appreciatively.

The moment they break the kiss, Mike leans back a little and starts fiddling with Harvey’s bowtie. It doesn’t want to come loose immediately, but after some pulling it suddenly slips out of Mike’s hands and onto the floor. Then Mike unbuttons the jacket, straightens the lapels and then slips it off Harvey’s shoulders. He can feel Harvey’s muscles through his shirt, well-rounded shapes that most likely aren’t as firm as they once were—Harvey is a good few years older than Mike, after all—but still visible. As he slips the jacket further down Harvey’s arms, he pushes his hips against Harvey’s, slowly grinding.

Mike slips his arms around Harvey’s middle as they kiss again, their tongues slide together and Mike starts pulling the back of Harvey’s shirt out of his pants. Then he starts unbuttoning Harvey’s shirt, while Harvey brings up a hand to cup Mike’s face.

He doesn’t think anymore. Especially not when they have to break the kiss so that he can unbutton the top three buttons of Harvey’s shirt, when he sees what Harvey looks like underneath all the expensive layers of clothes. Except he finds that Harvey’s face is much, much more interesting than his body, even though he is fit, because he is breathing hard and looking flushed and Mike knows it’s because of him. When Harvey smiles, his eyes flickering down for a brief moment, Mike looks down as well. Even in the dim light of the apartment, the folds and shadows of the fabric of Harvey’s trousers show he is hard. Mike ducks his head a little when he looks up again, unable to keep a straight face because he feels giddy all of a sudden.

“What?” Harvey says, half-laughing.

“I don’t know,” Mike tells him, stepping in closer again. He touches Harvey’s side, then slides his hand down Harvey’s stomach and hip until it comes to rest on the bulge in his trousers. “I like you. I’ve liked you for a while.”

Harvey makes an appreciating humming sound that fades into a groan when Mike squeezes. Mike wants to kiss him again, but Harvey throws his head aside just then so his lips connect with his neck—which isn’t a bad thing either, because kissing the stubble on Harvey’s jaw and the soft skin where his neck connects with his shoulder is almost as good as French kissing him. He moves his hand on Harvey’s erection a little faster, presses a little harder, as he sucks a hickey into the pale skin.

Then there is a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back. Harvey is staring at him, his eyes vibrant and sparkling, and he is smiling.

“Don’t ruin my tuxedo,” he says. It’s not a full warning, but Mike knows Harvey is serious so he nods and unbuttons Harvey’s trousers. He pushes them down so they pool around Harvey’s ankles. They both kicked out their shoes when they came in, earlier. Harvey is wearing tight black boxers that look a little silky, and Mike thinks it’s only part because anything else would show through the slender-cut tuxedo trousers.

The outline of Harvey’s erection is sharply outlined through the thin material, but Mike doesn’t get a lot of time to stare because then Harvey is kissing him again. He steps forward, pushing Mike back and shaking off his trousers as he does so. Mike can feel Harvey against his leg, hot even though he is still wearing his suit, and they side-step to avoid a table.

The way they move is almost like a dance. They twist and turn, though slowly; sometimes Mike takes a couple of steps forward and other times it is Harvey who does it. Once, Mike nearly trips as he is made to walk backwards, but Harvey keeps him up.

Eventually Mike has got Harvey leaning against the wall. Harvey breaks the kiss to pull Mike’s shirt over his head—he obviously doesn’t have the patience and Mike doesn’t mind, because he doesn’t really either.

When he presses his hand back against Harvey’s crotch, he can feel how it’s already been stained wet and sticky by precome. It gives him an idea.

Mike kneels in front of Harvey, and though Harvey first keeps his eyebrows raised, he relaxes the moment Mike nudges his thigh with his nose. Then he kisses Harvey’s stomach, where it is probably tickly because Harvey makes a shocking movement and gently pushes Mike’s head a little lower. So then Mike moves on to kiss the jut of Harvey’s hipbone with an opened mouth; then the hot skin right above the waistband of his underwear, and finally, right where Harvey wants him.

The moment he closes his mouth over the head of Harvey’s cock, Harvey moans and sags a little lower, as if his knees unexpectedly buckled. Mike looks up to check whether Harvey is alright—and he seems to be, so he keeps going.

The material is fine against his tongue, and he can feel the musty taste of sex on his tongue even though there is no direct contact. He blows hot air against the bulge, and hears Harvey groan again. Then Harvey slips his hand into Mike’s hair, keeping him close so that Mike has to breathe through his nose. Harvey smells mostly-clean, because he probably showered before the party, and next to that he smells like sex—something which makes Mike’s heart beat faster, and which makes heat pool heavily between his legs.

He keeps going, refusing to pull down Harvey’s boxers even though he asks for that several times. Mike even ignores the nearly whiny groan, “I’m going to come like this.” Instead he slips his hands up the back of Harvey’s thigh and pushes them up beneath the underwear. He squeezes, and that makes Harvey buck forwards a little so Mike gets a face full of wet cloth.

And Mike really, fully intends on giving Harvey a blowjob later. He _does_. But at the same time the way Harvey moans is amazing and Mike loves the fact he is doing that, so he keeps going on for a little while.

It means he is a little surprised when Harvey starts bucking his hips all of a sudden. He’d thought Harvey would have more stamina, more self-control, or even that it would take longer for him to reach orgasm. Mike can taste the come on his tongue, bitter and plenty oozing through the material. He keeps blowing hot air, interspersed with sucking, while Harvey rides out his orgasm.

After a while, Harvey sags back against the wall. Mike leans back and looks at him, at how Harvey looks both mortified and embarrassed at once, how a dribble of semen is running down his thigh and at how he refuses to meet Mike’s eyes.

“Didn’t think you’d come so fast,” Mike says by means of an apology. He is still staring, and still kneeling, and Harvey finally looks down at him.

“I didn’t peg you for a sexual deviant,” he groans, and then pushes himself off the wall. Mike watches as Harvey takes the first steps towards the bedroom, still looking a little unstable on his legs. Then he gets up and follows Harvey to the bed.

Harvey doesn’t kiss him, he just unbuckles Mike’s belt and pushes down his trousers, taking his underwear with it. Then he lays down on the bed, completely naked and obviously inviting Mike to join him there.

This time they do make out. Mike clambers atop of Harvey, and he really is far too desperate by now so his hips start moving on their own accord. He looks at Harvey and wants to ask if he can do something about it, but Harvey already responds.

“I would have sucked you off,” he tells Mike, “But then you ruined my underwear.”

“Payback, huh?” Mike mutters into Harvey’s neck, gyrating his hips against Harvey’s. His cock fits in the curve between Harvey’s stomach and hipbone, and it’s slick with sweat and sticky with Harvey’s own come, and it might just work.

“Yeah,” Harvey whispers in Mike’s ear, “I’d have sucked hard and pushed a finger up your ass.” Right at that moment he rests his hand at the small of Mike’s back, sliding down one finger. Mike moans, and speeds up a little.

He is nearly there anyway. Mike closes his eyes and listens to Harvey talk, feels Harvey’s skin under his body and the way the muscles in his stomach and thighs are already tensing up. His breath is coming in quick, short gasps, interspersed with moans that rumble from deep inside his chest.

“I’d have pushed you down onto the bed, and made you sit right on the edge with your legs spread,” Harvey says, “And I would’ve swallowed you whole.” Mike doesn’t doubt Harvey has had practice at this, not in this moment. He is moving as fast as he can, occasionally slipping in the layer of sweat that is forming between them.

“I would have continued, you fucking my mouth with your cock, me fucking your ass with my fingers, until you’d have come.” Harvey continues, “And I would’ve swallowed every single drop of sperm.” His voice dies down to a whisper and Mike moans, the images already forming in his head.

The combination of feeling and imagery is too much and he starts coming, spilling over Harvey’s stomach in long, sticky strands. Harvey’s hand is still on his back, rubbing lightly, and Mike doesn’t stop rocking his hips until he can’t take the sensory overload anymore.

He drops himself next to Harvey on the bed. Harvey cleans himself with a corner of the sheets, and then he looks at Mike.

“So, should I start wearing tuxedos to office?” He smirks.

Mike rolls his eyes, shakes his head and then confesses to Harvey, “I would have had sex with you sooner if you’d done this before.” Then he rolls over on his stomach and looks Harvey over. “Though I think this is my favorite kind of look on you.”

Harvey starts laughing and leans in to kiss Mike. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Yeah,” Mike breathes, his eyes already closed again. “So am I.”

~


End file.
